Male Bikini Wax
by MissJayne
Summary: ...Or why Leroy Jethro Gibbs really should lock his door at night. Crack!fic, Jibbs. Co-authored with madame.alexandra


_A/N: This came out of a very odd IM conversation late one night. And I should have posted it _ages _ago, but I'm getting forgetful in my old age. Definitely crack!fic. You have been warned._

_Oh, and the name came from a waxing product Alexa found online..._

Male Bikini Wax

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was used to waking at the slightest noise in the middle of the night. It was an old habit, ingrained into him by the Corps, one he never wanted to lose.

It served him well in his current job, especially given everyone he had put away over a long and sterling career as an NCIS Special Agent. Some people wanted to see him dead and he had no intention of giving them a chance.

Even though he still didn't lock his door. That was what the gun was for.

Nevertheless, he did not expect to wake up and find someone lurking in the shadows of his bedroom. Immediately, he tensed and attempted to roll over to locate his gun. Keeping it close by was always a good plan.

And then he realized someone had tied him to his own bed. Hand and foot. Expertly.

The moon came out from behind a cloud, not able to light the room but giving him enough light to make out a silhouette. A very familiar silhouette.

Jenny.

A lazy grin began to form on his face and he relaxed. He had thought she planned to stay the night at her own place; she had piles of paperwork to deal with after all. But no, his scheming lover had come up with a way to surprise him.

He was going to enjoy this. Testing the bonds again, he decided to compliment her on her knots later. Getting out of these would be difficult.

She came closer in the darkness, not bothering with the light. He could make out a tub in one hand plus a plastic implement and what looked like thin paper in the other. Intriguing.

"Jen," he began, a note of concern in his voice. "What are you doing?"

"Hello Jethro."

The voice gave it away. His heart plummeted.

The redhead took her time in looking him up and down; Jethro decided never to sleep without clothes ever again. Even if Jenny was in the same bed.

Finally she met his eyes. "I thought you were happy to see me," she smirked, coming steadily closer.

He finally realized exactly what she planned to do. "Oh shi –"

* * *

The sun dawned bright and early the next morning as NCIS agents made their merry way to work – excluding from its cheery warmth a certain part of a certain Leroy Jethro Gibbs' anatomy.

The part where, proverbially, the sun did not shine.

He wasn't quite sure it would ever shine again. Not after what that sneaking, sadistic, hard-copy of his lover had subjected him to last night.

Gibbs growled moodily, cup of (very strong) coffee in hand as he stormed into the bullpen. The usually intimidating 'storming' was somewhat hampered by the discomfort he was currently experiencing. He fervently hoped he was doing a spectacular job of disguising the awkwardness in his walk.

He shoved his chair rudely out from his desk with his foot and sat down, cursing under his breath at the sudden, uncomfortable reminder that he was in no condition to be sitting. He slammed his coffee cup down forcefully, glaring, and shifted. He winced and punched a key on his computer to wake it up.

He paused, narrowing his eyes.

Something felt off...

...something other than what was already _off_.

It was too quiet.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs looked up slowly and suspiciously. That was when he realized he was being stared at.

No, correction: gawked at.

Ziva slouched in her chair, her head cocked at him curiously. McGee looked as if he were trying very hard to look away and could not, and his face kept flushing redder and redder. Tony sat at his desk as straight as a board, his hands folded calmly in front of him, leering intently at his grumpy boss.

"WHAT?" barked Gibbs, menacing them all with a threatening scowl.

Instead of three agents startling and scuttling to bury themselves in doing something useful, Gibbs was met with a very different reaction. Ziva bit the tip of a finger, glancing at Tony. Tony smirked in a way that could only be dubbed satanic.

"Knees acting up again, Boss?" Tony asked loudly. "You looked a little uncomfortable walking in."

Jethro glared at his senior agent. He had a gut feeling his day was about to get exponentially worse.

If that was at all possible.

"The Director was in a good mood this morning," Ziva remarked mildly, shooting him a wicked look. "Seems she had a good night. Did you have anything to do with that, Gibbs?" she asked slowly.

Jethro glared at her this time around. What possessed his errant team to be asking such questions? There was no way they knew. He refused to even consider that possibility. Lily loved living too much to risk his breaking her neck.

However often she tempted him.

"I don't think the Boss-man did, Ziva," Tony announced matter-of-factly. He looked at Gibbs and frowned a little. "Maybe he's in the dog house."

Ziva clicked her tongue. She shook her head slowly. "Not at all, DiNozzo," she corrected. "If he was, his hair would be standing on end."

Tony sniggered and even McGee started laughing.

Really, really pissed off now, Jethro slammed his palm against his desk and a stifled silence fell for just a moment.

"Get to work!" he snarled.

They didn't move.

Jethro stood up slowly, his hands planted on his desk. This feeling of complete loss of authority was unnerving. It was almost as though he was facing three versions of his nemesis instead of one.

"GIBBS!"

Abby's familiar squeal actually made him smile. Even if she didn't know exactly what was wrong, she would pick up on his bad mood and soothe him. She would glare his team into submission for him. The world would be righted in no time.

The Goth gave him the most gentle hug possible, instantly confusing him further. He looked up to see Ducky standing behind her, frowning slightly.

"Everything okay, Jethro?" the doctor inquired. "Do you require any –" the volume of his voice dropped "_assistance_?"

Gibbs let go of Abby. "Will someone explain what is going on," he demanded.

He felt the eyes on the entire squad room on him. "You don't know?" Abby asked, her voice quiet.

"Know _what_?" he replied, trying to be civil with her.

"Of course!" She began to beam. "You really should check your email more often." He allowed her to push past him and steal his computer. "It's on YouTube."

"You what?"

"Tube, Gibbs, Tube." Her fingers expertly danced over the keys. "It's a website for people to post videos, mostly homemade."

A horrible feeling swept through him. She wouldn't have dared…

"Everyone on the Navy Yard got this video in their inboxes this morning," she told him, still smiling, bringing it up and playing in on the main screen.

He recognized the location immediately. His bedroom. In the dark. Moonlight coming through the curtains.

Him tied to the bed. Lily stepping out of the shadows.

And the redhead had also included sound.

He winced as he watched the first few minutes. It looked less painful on the screen, in spite of his screams.

"Next time you need to breathe through it." He looked over at Abby, relaxing in his chair and critiquing the whole thing. "Screaming doesn't help."

Gibbs hoped the ground would open and swallow him up whole.

"Why I remember back in 1989," Ducky began. "I decided it would be interesting to experience such a wax."

Standing next to him, McGee went bright red and tried to move away surreptitiously. Gibbs decided to have a very quiet word with Ducky much, much later.

Ducky continued to ramble fondly in the background about his experiences with wax, Tony was muffling hysterical laughter, and Abby had snuggled up to his shoulder and was patting him comfortingly. Leroy Jethro Gibbs could only stare in mute horror at the macabre video before him.

When it ended, with a flirtatious wink and a kiss blown from the redhead to the hidden camera, the squad room fell eerily silent. And he was being stared at again. He swallowed hard and slowly sank down into his chair. He winced, slamming his palms violently onto his desk, making Abby jump and scurry away.

Jethro resolved to run to the one person who would grant him permission to ritualistically slaughter Lily and stormed out of the bullpen.

He ran to Jenny.

"Is that an American custom?" he heard Ziva ask curiously.

He stalked through Cynthia's office on the warpath, ignoring her orders to stop, and barged into Jenny's office, slamming the door viciously against the wall. Trudging into the office, he let the bruised door shut itself behind him. He flung himself pitifully into a chair in front of Jenny's desk, sinking down.

Jennifer Shepard glanced up from her paperwork, her glasses perched primly on her nose, and folded her arms on the stack of paper, smiling a little sadly before she disguised it.

"Jethro," she greeted. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" she asked a little sardonically, plucking her glasses off of her nose and folding them gracefully.

"The spawn of Satan," Jethro retorted petulantly.

Jenny sighed. "What did Lily do this time?" she inquired. She had noticed a perky little e-mail from Lily in her blackberry inbox this morning; she'd read the short, intriguing note but hadn't followed the link yet. She sincerely hoped Jethro's mood had nothing to do with it.

Jethro mumbled something.

"I cannot hear you, Jethro," Jenny informed him. "Vocalize."

"She. _Waxed_. Me." He ground out through gritted teeth, making it impossible for her to misunderstand.

She lifted her brows quickly. Needless to say, she was taken aback. She narrowed her eyes at her lover. "Pardon me?"

"She. Waxed. Me. Last night."

"And just what was Lily doing in your bedroom with hot wax?" Jenny demanded coolly.

He gave her an offended, outraged look. "That's all you're concerned about?!"

Jenny glared.

"She tied me up!" he whined defensively.

"Perhaps you would like a shovel to help dig your hole?" growled Jenny. "How does my little sister, 5'5" in her stockings, manage to tie up a marine and wax...?"

"Jen," he mumbled, giving her a pleading look. "This isn't funny."

She steepled her fingers, pressed them to her lips, and casually flicked her eyes to his belt. "Just a moment," she said formally, turning to her computer.

She checked her e-mail.

She clicked on Lily's link.

Jethro practically disappeared in his chair as she listened and watched. Jenny simply pressed her lips together. Hard.

She turned back to Jethro slowly and stood up, coming around her desk. She perched on the edge of it, crossing one long leg over the other. Crooking her finger and beckoning, Jethro dragged himself up, moseying towards her. She held up a hand and halted him.

"Drop 'em," she ordered.

"WHAT?" he demanded fiercely.

"Don't be modest, Jethro. Drop your pants," Jenny ordered matter-of-factly. "It cannot be that bad."

He grumbled and whined and fumbled with his belt, shoving his boxers and khakis down.

Jenny cocked her head and lifted a brow. "_Oh_," she murmured.

Jethro looked at her suspiciously.

Jenny frowned slightly and pointed, her eye critical. "Hmm, she did a really shoddy job of that. You'll have ingrown hairs," she informed him neutrally.

"Jen," he growled menacingly. "Not. Funny," he reiterated.

Jenny pouted her lips sympathetically and looked up at him, her eyes roaming just a little. She bit her lip, trying to hold back a laugh. Her poor Jethro.

"No, Jethro," she soothed. "Not one bit amusing."

She slipped off her desk and waltzed over to the office door, clicking the lock delicately and turning around to look at him, tilting her head just to catch a glimpse of his bare ass.

She sauntered back over to him with a smirk, looking down with interest. "It really isn't too bad, Jethro."

"JEN!" he shouted desperately. "I'm PRE-PUBESCENT!"

She trailed her hand down his chest with a playful smile and pressed her lips to his shoulder. "Relax, you drama queen," she grinned. "I'll make what that devil did worth it," she promised wickedly, smirking into his shoulder...

* * *

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was slowly relaxing. He had finally scared his team into obeying him again, although he felt it would take a while for their usual levels of fear to return. He already had a few plans for that…

Abby had given him a special lotion that she promised would help out. Ducky had regaled Gibbs and a poor corpse with special male information that Palmer had been forbidden from hearing.

McGee had temporarily redeemed himself by locating Lily. Gibbs wasn't surprised she had left the country early in the morning. As best he could tell, Lily was in Barbados – he sincerely hoped it wasn't official CIA business or he would have to change agencies.

He had spent most of the afternoon in Abby's lab as she had attempted to teach him how to work his email. He wanted to be prepared for whatever Lily threw at him next, and it was amusing to remind Jenny of _exactly_ what they had been doing in her office while she was dealing with her paperwork.

Especially when she had a meeting with SecNav later.

His email alert chimed quietly and he glanced at the new email. Lily. Looking up quickly, he realized he was the only one she had sent this particular message to. Unsure whether he wanted to get Jenny over here before he opened it, he decided it was better to get it over with.

_Evening, LJ._

_Hope all is well. Barbados is very warm this time of year. And sunny. And filled with alcohol._

_I got to thinking last night. Although it was hard to think with all of your screaming. Next time I'll bring ear plugs._

_You know, Jenny's never been with an uncircumcised man. I have a pair of bolt cutters somewhere and I know how to sterilize them…_


End file.
